Lucky Break
by Shadow and Flame
Summary: After the battle at Mission city the Autobots just want to settle down in peace, but some unwelcome house pests are making their new base an interesting place to be. Crossover, rated for violence and language later on.
1. New Home

_Hello people =) this story has been kicking around my skull for a little while now, and now I have some spare time I though I'd jot it down. Hope you guys enjoy. It takes place in the movies verse, just after the end of the first movie and the victory at mission city._

_I do not own transformers. In any way, shape or form.

* * *

  
_

Ironhide grunted as he shouldered another beam upright and into place. Grinding his teeth, he braced himself and the weight as Bumblebee ducked underneath him with a laser torch, quickly working to solder the base of the support strut into place. Ratchet was working on the top of it with another laser, spraying the occasional shower of sparks onto Ironhide's head. He sighed inwardly as the embers burned briefly against his face plates, drawn in around his face to protect his optics. He tolerated it, as he had done during the erection of the four previous beams. This had to be done and the scorch marks would buff out easily enough.

"Done." Ratchet said simply, turning off his torch and Ironhide glanced down at Bumblebee, who after a few more agonising minutes gave him a thumbs up to indicate he too had finished. Slowly Ironhide began to let go of the beam, poised to hold it again if it showed any signs of instability, but it remained steady and he moved away entirely flexing his aching arms.

Ratchet gave the beam several thumps to ensure it was held properly, the loud clangs reverberating around the bare room. Ironhide arched his back, wincing as he heard several gears click back into position; he was getting to old to be the team's forklift. Ratchet raised an eye ridge at the action, close to throwing some age related banter at him for such a display but they had another eight beams to go, and a grumpy Ironhide would only make the task more unpleasant.

Bumblebee however was looking at his former guardian with real anxiety, hovering fretfully around the larger mech, his blue optics brimming with the concern he couldn't voice. Ironhide acknowledged neither of them, and turned to pick up another beam. He glanced around the enormous empty chamber, the room which hopefully would become a common room for social gatherings in the years to come. It certainly was a 'fixer-upper' as the humans would say.

Following their victory at Mission City there had been nothing but arguments over what the U.S. government would do with them. Ironhide smirked slightly at the memory, as if they were capable of 'doing' anything with them against their will. He was glad it was Optimus who had handled the no doubt infuriating negotiations with the big wigs from the Pentagon, he had no patience for such narrow minded, untrusting individuals. Of course they wouldn't wander around into densely populated areas! And the concern that they could hurt civilians? Ridiculous. They wanted to be left alone, not harassed. Only with the Sectary of Defence, John Kellar's help and immense patience had arrangements finally been made for the Autobots to take possession of a deserted series of warehouses out in the middle of no where. They had been told the place had been used for military storage but Ironhide doubted this, it was too far away from central transport routes and Ratchet's initial scans of the place had picked up more than a few traces of blood in the buildings. But whatever its former use, it certainly was in no shape to house the Cybertronians yet. They had easily cleared out the accumulated debris but the ceilings where a tougher problem to overcome, they were all too low and the material used in their construction offered no protection from overhead attack, a threat everyone was bearing in mind with Starscream's disappearance. So here they were, reinforcing the modified, higher ceiling before attempts to thicken it where made.

**I still don't see why we couldn't bring the Ark down and use that as a base. It would be much quicker and safer.** Bumblebee transmitted to the other two, watching Ironhide pick up the fifth beam.

"The human authorities are too concerned with the media attention such a descent would create Bumblebee, the Ark is far larger than any of our protoforms and you know how twitchy they've been trying to find places for our expected arrivals to land. These 'astrophysicists' the pentagon keeps going on about are very interested where the 'meteorites' from our observed descents have gone and explaining the presence of craters but no giant rocks is understandably difficult. The least we can do is leave the Ark cloaked in orbit, and draw no more telescopes towards our location. The explosions from a certain someone's weapons testing are bad enough." said Ratchet, guiding Ironhide towards the correct spot for the next strut.

"Not to mention if we brought the Ark here we might as well shout our location to the Decepticons, it's not like we can fly her close to the Earth's surface to throw them off our trail." Ironhide rumbled, "Now stop this chatter and solder this in place before Ratchet has to replace all my knee pistons."

"Stop whinging Ironhide, you know as well as I do you're in no danger performing this task. As if I'd let you, I spend enough time repairing you lot as it is." The medic countered, sending another cascade of sparks onto Ironhide's head. Ironhide glared at Ratchet but said nothing further, waiting for the other two to finish. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Ironhide finally strode out of the chamber many hours later, heading straight for his quarters. Bumblebee watched him leave with almost tangible unease while Ratchet packed away the lasers they'd been using.

"Don't worry about him Bumblebee; he's just in a strange mood because Chromia is coming, although if he doesn't stop being so cantankerous I might start dosing him with mood stabilisers." Ratchet reassured the younger bot as he closed the large metal case he had packed. Bumblebee tilted his head in response to this,

**What's Chromia like Ratchet? I've meet the Twins and Mirage before but not her. **

"Well she's just like Ironhide with regards to weapons, can't get enough of the things. Good fighter too, she's not a bot you'd take on lightly."

**I didn't ask what sort of fighter she is, is she funny like the Twins or…**

"No one is quite like the Twins Bumblebee"

**You know what I mean or is she serious like Prowl or… what?**

Ratchet paused slightly before answering, taking that brief moment to acknowledge in his head that the fact he listed her offensive skills first was a sign he had been at war too long.

"She's easy to get along with for the most part, but she can have a wicked quick temper. Try not to irritate her; I imagine her patience has been severely depleted after such a long journey with the Twins bickering all the way. What is the reason behind these questions Bumblebee, why so curious about Ironhide's sparkmate?" Ratchet replied, exiting the chamber with Bumblebee following just behind.

**Because of exactly that Ratchet! She's Ironhide's partner and I just want to make a good impression on her. **

Ratchet smiled at the smaller mech as they walked through the half finished corridors, "Don't fret over such thoughts Bumblebee, how could you make a bad impression? And even if Chromia took an instant dislike to you, which is improbable, that would not mean Ironhide would shun you."

"And stop that, you'll only make it worse."

The medic scowled at the bot besides him, whose fingers were almost absentmindedly digging into his neck wiring, scratching at the glitchy vocal processor within. Bumblebee did not reply to this, simply staring into space ahead of him.

But he did remove the offending appendage from his neck. Ratchet had examined the half healed injury after the carnage of mission city had calmed down, and he had declared it best that Bumblebee continue to broadcast communications rather than try to speak. That would give the unit time to heal more completely without putting strain on it, or so the medic assured the young robot. Bumblebee was not thrilled with the prospect of remaining silent for yet more time, and the slowly regenerating circuits where extremely itchy.

**Do you think we'll have this place in better shape by the time they get here?** He finally transmitted, changing the subject.

"Who knows, there's still a lot of work to do. Why we settled for such a run down complex of structures I don't know."

A small beeping noise echoed faintly through the corridors, at which Bumblebee glanced at his wrist and punched a button, allowing silence to once more permeate the passageway. Ratchet looked at Bumblebee, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

**Its just an alarm to remind me of the time I must leave here to meet Sam on time after school, it takes so much longer to get there now we're out in the middle of nowhere. **

Ratchet nodded as Bumblebee turned and started towards the main exit

"Make sure you check in with one of us once you are at Sam's household tonight! And try to get here as soon as you've dropped off Sam tomorrow, this place isn't going to magically sort itself out!" Ratchet shouted as the yellow autobot disappeared round a corner, with only a backwards wave to confirm he'd heard. Whether or not he'd remember the instructions, Ratchet thought to himself, was another matter entirely.

Ratchet entered one of the rough lifts that had been constructed to take them down to the lower levels where the more important rooms where. On the bottom floor, and after a short walk the medic reached a doorway which, unlike the others he had passed, actually had a door filling its frame. A swipe of his knuckles, which had a series of access chips embedded into them, and the door opened with a slight hiss of escaping air as old, leaky pistons went to work. Ratchet stepped into his med bay and looked around. When it had been newly finished he had been openly disdainful of the meagre facilities but now he viewed the situation with a more tolerant mind frame. It was all they had, the best they could manage in the situation and he had needed somewhere to start immediate work on Bumblebee's legs. Said legs where on one of the large beds in the bay, and while still unfinished they were by no means the tangled mess of metal and circuitry they had been when initially recovered from Mission City. Ratchet put the laser case back into a rack and walked over to the legs to continue working on them. The sooner he could complete them and get those clunky standby strut's he'd used as a temporary fix for Bumblebee off the better. He'd told Bumblebee the struts weren't up to much but the youthful energy that coursed through the scout meant he often forgot the warning, running and jumping around as if he was back at optimal condition. An accident waiting to happen in Ratchet's opinion and a perfect example of his over zealous approach to patient recovery in Ironhide's.

As the tiny sounds of micro repair work trickled through the room Ratchet became immersed in his work, and the unease that had been distracting him faded. When ever he was working in this med bay, no matter what the task before him it always took a few minutes to truly focus on his work and to shake the discomfort that originated from the occupant of the bed at the far end of the bay. Jazz's optics, once the blue they all shared as autobots, where now fractured and empty, their blank stare harsh and unforgiving. Optimus may have authorised attempts to fix and revive his former second in command but Ratchet had not even begun the simplest repairs on his battered frame. Revivals where complex procedures and Ratchet felt it best to wait for the equipment the new arrivals where bringing from their ship and the Arc before attempting it. Only four successful revivals had been accomplished in the history of Cybertronian medicine, two performed by Ratchets mentor, Sparkweld, aeons ago before the war broke out. Back then the only death Cybertronians had faced was a time induced one, so this revival may be simpler because severe structural trauma was the cause of death rather than mass systems failures.

Also delaying him was all the work needed on Bumblebee still. After his legs where complete Ratchet needed to fix his vocal processors, and by that time the Twins probably would have arrived, flooding him with the hundreds of minor, inconsequential injuries they inflicted on each other. And if the decepticons returned and the war resumed… he may never have enough time to focus on Jazz to the level that a revival might be a success. But that was simply the way things were. A piece of Sparkweld's advice reminded him clearly of where his priorities lay;

"Always deal with the living first Ratchet. The dead can wait."

* * *

Optimus Prime, ex co-ruler of Cybertron and commander of the autobots rolled into their new base at just gone midnight. He transformed without stopping and walked into one of the small lifts to take him below. As the lift slowly chugged downwards the gigantic mech tapped a few commands into a tiny plasma screen embedded in its wall, bringing up a summary of who was currently in the base and where they were. Noting that Ironhide was in his quarters and therefore probably recharging, Optimus made his way to the med bay where Ratchet was working once the lift had finally stopped. He pressed the intercom button at the med bay's door to tell Ratchet to let him in, as only the medic himself had the security chips needed to open the door. This was an impractical situation but was one that would remain until a secure lock up facility was completed for the more serious drugs Ratchet needed to store in there. Ratchet didn't respond directly to Optimus' request, opting to simply buzz him in. The large mech squinted momentarily as the mellow light of the corridors was replaced with the harsh, bright light of the bay. All their good lights had gone in here to allow Ratchet the best conditions they could currently create to work with. The yellow robot was hunched over the smaller yellow legs of their scout, charred or useless parts spread around him on the floor to be swept up later and disposed of. As the blue and red mech entered the room Ratchet finally looked up, the magnification lenses in front of his optics distorting their appearance in an almost comical manner. The lenses where quickly tucked away into some part of Ratchet's head though, and the two autobots began filling each other in on the days events and the progress of the base. Both of the mechs thought to themselves that the other looked tired, but neither would ever say anything. They all were tired, or in Jazz's case dead, and until the base was functional ever day involved hard, poorly rewarded work. Still, it was better than war.

"Did it really take you all day to reconfirm the landing sites for our arrivals?" Ratchet asked Optimus, his tone verging on disbelief.

"Unfortunately so. There seems to always be something else that must be questioned and run through, it would not surprise me if I am back there within the week."

"These humans, was it really wise to set up a base here Optimus? Their constant squabbling and the limitations they place upon us, we would have been better off building on the moon."

"Bumblebee has grown too attached to Sam and this world for that Ratchet and I know it holds a certain fascination to you as it does for me. I imagine Ironhide would also be unhappy to leave Captain Lennox, although he would never admit it. Besides our base will improve no end once the others arrive, with new resources and bot power this place will be home in no time."

Ratchet only grunted in reply, starting to clear away the scattered tools on the bed. Optimus let his gaze drift around the bay and found it inevitably drawn to Jazz's remains. A reminder of yet another failure he thought, eyes clouding with regret. Turning from the sight and the sadness it caused, Optimus moved to exit the bay and head to his quarters.

"I will assist in plating the roof of the common area tomorrow Ratchet, I have no meetings or transmissions to attend." Optimus said, turning as he was about to exit the room. Ratchet only nodded in response, continuing to clear up the mess he'd made on the floor. Then he was alone in the med bay once more, the door hissing as it closed behind Optimus. Ratchet sighed as he swept up the last of the scorched wiring and panels and threw them into a large bucket, the contents of which he melted down and made into spare parts at the end of each week. On his way out he hit the lights and the bay was plunged into darkness, but even as he left Ratchet could still feel the vacant stare of Jazz's empty optics on him.

Ratchet sighed as he walked down the corridor, and tried to ignore his unease. Tomorrow was another day, and there was much to be done.


	2. Unlikely Aid

_Chapter 2... oh and who ever can guess what the crossover is with before the next chpater gets a cookie (although its really not that hard). Enjoy =)  


* * *

_

Captain Will Lennox strode through the opening hangar doors that were currently serving as the entrance to the autobot's base with a grin plastered across his face. He couldn't help it, the huge doors to the place had only one opening setting, which catered for the large dimensions of the cybertronians. Thus it looked ridiculous when they opened wide to admit one tiny human. The noise was fairly awful too, the doors and tracks they slid into being corroded to a patchy orange red long ago. The resulting screeching of tortured old metal had made Lennox wince the first time he had visited, but ever since he tried his best to ignore it. It was just another thing on the long list of jobs yet to be done around the base. Still, looking at the mech operating said doors, he was always struck by the stark contrast between the awful entrance (and base that lay beyond them) and the near flawless perfection of the cybertronians themselves.

He walked up to a sour faced Ironhide, who was currently operating the door switch to allow his friend in. Neither being said anything as they both tracked the slow progress of the opening doors. Finally Ironhide broke,

"I hate these bloody things."

The tormented sound of the grinding rusty metal continued to fill the air.

"Maybe I'll tinker with them tomorrow, at least fix it so you can start the close sequence before it's completed the open one."

No response from his human comrade.

"It's just stupid that the open command cannot be overridden. A waste of time, and a potential gap in our defences."

Lennox said nothing. This conversation, with some variations, had played out every time he had visited the base and watched the door's slow progress with Ironhide. As much as the large mech hated the doors, there was always something else more important to do, even if the 'more important task' was letting off steam blasting innocent rocks to cinders.

The one sided conversation died, Lennox remaining silent as the door continued its unhurried progress. He heard Ironhide inhale deeply, and glanced upwards to see if his friend's patience had finally snapped or if he was trying the 'count to ten' approach Lennox had jokingly suggested to him a few weeks ago. To the human's great surprise Ironhide had taken the suggestion entirely seriously, although how much success he was having was anyone's guess.

Finally a loud clang signalled that the doors where fully open. Ironhide immediately slammed the close switch and the air was filled with squealing once more. Lennox watched as Ironhide closed his optics, irritation written all over his metal face. He knew that the mech wouldn't leave this spot until the damm things were closed so he kept quiet. Working as part of the U.S. military, he had thought he knew something about paranoia and the lengths people and organisations would go to be safe from their enemies. But the autobots where on another level. Lennox had put it down to the untold centauries of war they had endured, and no longer thought much about the sometimes odd behaviour of his robot friends.

Suddenly another loud noise joined the squeals already saturating the air, several deep baritone blares that could only be…

"Optimus." Ironhide sighed under his breath. Activating his transmitter Ironhide reached out to his approaching leader.

**The doors are already in reverse Optimus, unless you want the joy of waiting outside in this heat I'd suggest picking up the pace a little.**

There was a pause before Ironhide received a response.

**That certainly would be unacceptable considering my current passengers Ironhide, but then so to would accelerating like a adolescent mech pursuing the latest femme to catch his eye.**

Ironhide's eyeridges rose as he listened to the reply. **What passengers? The only scheduled visit today is Lennox's and he is already here…**

**Let us just say, important visitors. And I would like to arrive with some semblance of dignity so if you could please do something to rectify the door situation I would be grateful.**

Lennox looked up at the infuriated expression on the black mech's face, clearly he was not hearing anything he liked.

"Hide?" he said, an entire question emanating from the one word.

Ironhide didn't reply at first, his gaze darting around the doorframes and walls of the entrance chamber, searching for something he could use.

"Why didn't he tell me, important guests and now he suddenly wants me to make miracles happen… arriving with any sort of decorum is impossible here… in this trash bucket…"

The black mech continued to grumble and mutter under his breath, and Lennox caught the gist of the problem from the fragments he could hear. When Ironhide started to swear in cybertronian the human smiled, as much as Ironhide disliked the human authorities that didn't mean he didn't want to impress/intimidate them whenever possible.

"Why don't you just cut the power to them?" Lennox suggested, as his friend continued franticly scanning the walls.

"Because then they would be broken! And stuck open! Unacceptable." Came the retort, the doors slowly closing ever further. Ironhide gave up the search and looked at the narrowing gap through slitted optics. Another set of horn blasts from Optimus, and was it Lennox's imagination or did they somehow manage to sound a little concerned?

**Ironhide…**

The weapons specialist sighed. This was not turning out to be a good day. And it had seemed so promising at the start, with Lennox's visit and the base relatively quiet with Bumblebee gone for a few days, Ratchet busy and Optimus out until later tonight. A low, primal hum suddenly filled the air and blue pricks of light began whirling on the filthy walls. Lennox looked around in surprise to see Ironhide lifting a newly primed cannon, a resigned look on his face as he aimed at one of the slowly moving doors.

"What…" was all Lennox managed to get out before the blast erupted from the cannon and the human's senses where overloaded. Lennox instinctively closed his eyes against the hideous glare, yet the blinding light still managed to sear through his eyelids. The noise was indescribable, and then the impact itself. Lennox felt the shockwave blow through his body as the projectile hit one of the doors and crumpled it like discarded tinfoil. Lennox looked up at his friend, whose expression hadn't changed.

"What the hell was that!? How is that better than cutting the power!?" Lennox exclaimed, unable to help himself.

Ironhide shrugged, the cannon spinning and disintegrating into its many components, each tucking themselves away in some nook of his arm.

"I thought you said leaving the doors wide open was unacceptable! At least my way you could have reconnected the things and closed them eventually. Now you don't even have a bloody front door anymore!"

"Yes, it is… irritating." The mech paused, considering his next words, "but now we have to do something about them, it was long overdue anyway. Better me than… someone else" he glowered, thoughts of decepticons in general and Starscream in particular dancing through his processors.

Lennox was speechless.

"And besides, is this not a much better way to welcome our guests than I punching through all this concrete to pull out a bunch of wires? Think of the rubble that would be all over the floor."

"Why don't you think of the rubble you just sent howling towards Optimus!"

That did elicit a slight grin from the weapons specialist. "I'm sure that he can handle it. Besides, he was the one who gave me the problem. I'm sure he appreciated experiencing in close proximity my solution to it."

Lennox couldn't help but grin. Whatever you said about Ironhide, things were never dull around him.

"Optimus is going to kill you."

"I'll live. Besides, I can easily set up a laser array to cover the breach for tonight. Then we can all work on the accursed things in the morning."

"WHAT IN THE PIT WAS THAT!?" Came Ratchet's incensed inquiry as he exploded out of one of the lifts from below. He looked at the melted scrap that was all that remained of one of the doors, and the slow, seemingly unstoppable progress of the one that had been left unharmed. He turned to Ironhide, whose expression remain impassive, and opened his mouth to say something. Yet no scathing remarks came out, and after a moment the medic sighed. He turned and looked at the doors again, shaking his head.

"Ironhide, you worry me sometimes"

The mech in question just grinned, keeping his eyes fixed on the smoking doorway.

Suddenly the smoke swirled and parted, and Optimus Prime's impressive Peterbilt truck alt rolled into view. Just visible inside the enormous cab where three humans. The truck pulled up to those waiting for them and then shut down, the roar of its engine suddenly fading to nothing.

"That sure as hell was something! You crazy robo psyco," said the first human to bound out of the peterbilt's cab. It was Simmons, the former sector 7 agent, his face glowing with excitement. He had three bags in his arms and he dumped them on the floor as he continued ranting. "I'm telling you sir we really need to get some of those things, did you see what it did to that door! It's made of solid steel for Christ's sake! Or it was…" Simmons babbled on happily, always excited by the smallest display of Cybertronian power. The Sectary of Defence, Kellar, was getting out of the other side of the truck while a stranger followed Simmons out. Two sets of optics and one set of eyes focused with interest on the newcomer. They rarely got to meet new people, let alone have them over to their base.

"Jesus Simmons, I can see what you mean now." The stranger said as he hopped lightly down from Optimus' cab, his eyes fixed on the fallout from Ironhide's blast. Kellar was smiling very slightly as he cleared his throat to get the two entranced men's attention.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should step back a little? I'm sure Optimus would rather not perform introductions as a large truck."

"Oh yeah, sure." Said Simmons, backing hastily away from the vehicle but not taking his eyes off the smoking door.

The other man, while following suit, did switch his attention to watching Optimus though. That told the Ratchet, Ironhide and Lennox something at least, who ever this was he wasn't ex sector 7 like Simmons was. People newly exposed to the Cybertronians couldn't help but gawk at the robots as they transformed, although Lennox knew that he never got tired of watching the intricate process either.

Sure enough, the bizarre, alien grace of the shifting metal caused a wide grin to spread over the stranger's face, wonder shinning in his eyes.

"Well blow me, if it isn't nice to have visitors that look appealing for a change." He whispered to himself, either unaware or uncaring that all the cybertronians were perfectly able to hear him. The sentence certainly caught Ironhide and Ratchet's attention and their curiosity as to who this man was deepened.

Optimus finish his transformation sequence and straightened up. He threw one glare at Ironhide as chastisement for the door before stepping back into 'courteous host' mode.

"Autobots, Lennox, allow me to introduce Captain Murphy Ieno, head of Sector 11. You all know Simmons and Defence Sectary Kellar."

Ratchet, Ironhide and Lennox all stayed quiet but internally their mind's raced, questions and suspicions blooming in their minds like mushrooms at the mention of another 'Sector'.

"Simmons has been transferred to Sector 11 now Sector 7 has been shut down, and upon discovering Sector 11 has an increasing scrap metal problem and hearing of our need for additional, building materials, he thought that we all could put two and two together to make a solution for everyone." Optimus continued. "Captain Ieno, this is…"

Irritation overrode Ratchet's manners, "Optimus we don't need scrap we need stuff that will last. You know that."

"Oh you don't need to worry about that, my gigantic yellow friend. This stuff is only scrap to us because we can't melt it down once it's formed. There's no way we know of altering it once it's formed..." Simmons rattled.

"Well there is one way…" the man called Ieno said, cutting through Simmons chatter. He was grinning, mostly to himself it seemed. Obviously the remark was some kind of inside joke. Ratchet, who had been looking at Simmons with distaste, never liking his overly friendly tone when it was he who had captured and tormented Bumblebee, shifted his gaze to Ieno.

"Yeah ok one way, but not a safe, controllable way right? BUT we were all thinking that you guys with all the fancy crap you can do will have no problems melting it down and making it into something you can use." Simmons continued, unperturbed.

Ratchet was about to say something else when Optimus cut him off.

"Trust me Ratchet, this material they speak of is durable enough to be of use to us. They have large quantities of it, and Agent Simmons was quite right when he thought that we could succeed in altering it where humans had failed. Here," the red and blue mech pulled a lump of metal out of a compartment in his leg, passing it to the medic. All eyes where on the thing, the dull silver metal pitted all over with black splotches.

"Hmmm, it is far denser than its outward appearance shows," Ratchet said, scowling at the thing, "I can see why human tools cannot mark it. Where did you get it? And how do you come to have so much to give away?"

"Wellllll, ahhh…" Simmons began, stammering his words like when he'd first met Optimus, obviously unsure of what to say.

"It is manufactured for our department whenever we need some." Ieno said smoothly. His eyes moved slowly and deliberately from optic to optic. "We can make it, but like Simmon's said, we haven't found out how to change it once it cools. We have so much of it because our security protocols demand that only stuff in perfect condition can be used in our Sector, and unfortunately it tends to get damaged fairly regularly there." No more information was forth coming, and as the silence stretched out Ieno felt compelled to add a little more.

"Its fine really, its just one of those annoying rules that has to be obeyed. Our finance department would be much happier if we could just use it until it wore out, this stuff is expensive to make." A confident grin spread across his face, while unknown to him two separate sets of scans whispered through his body, checking heart rate, sweat glands, anything that might reveal the man was trying to deceive them.

Optimus detected his comrade's actions and inwardly smiled. Always so suspicious. He himself had already done the exact same thing when he had met Ieno and heard the proposal for the first time. As if he'd allow the man within 100 miles of their base if he suspected treachery.

"And why this sudden act of generosity?" Ratchet asked, staring down at the human.

"As your superior said, we need to get rid of this stuff, its starting to pile up and we can't afford another trip out to sea to dump it this year as we normally do" Ieno continued, meeting the cold blue gaze without blinking.

"You can't aff…"

There was an almost inaudible sigh from Optimus before he cut across the two.

"Captain Ieno, this is our medic, Ratchet and our weapons specialist, Ironhide. This is Captain Will Lennox, part of the special ops group dedicated to aiding us detect and stop any Decepticon activity here on Earth." Optimus said, ending the discussion. Ratchet was then treated to a personal transmission from their leader…

**Now that I have finally been able to complete the introductions, do feel free to continue interrogating our guest Ratchet.** There was a little irritation in Optimus' tone, but not enough to indicate he was really mad. The autobot leader knew his team mates and had expected the almost hostile reaction to this gesture of help.

Ratchet kept his optics on the man a moment longer before looking at Optimus, his face unreadable. Simmons glanced around nervously.

"If you need time to think about the offer then take as long as you want, the stuff isn't going anywhere fast." Ieno joked, his easy going smile once again spreading over his face.

"Thank you Captain Ieno," Optimus replied, "as I said during our initial meeting I will discus this with my fellow autobots and will relay our decision to you in the morning, so that we can accompany you to your base immediately should we accept."

It didn't take long for the others to figure out what this meant, but before any protests could be raised Optimus continued.

"You will find quarters fit for humans below on the first level. I am sure Captain Lennox will show you to them when you wish to retire. The entire base is at your disposal, and you may go where ever you like."

"Thank you Prime, I think I'll go and refresh myself now if Captain Lennox is free to show me the way." Ieno replied, walking over to the pile of bags and picking one up. He turned, "Mister Sectary?"

Kellar looked at him briefly, "Oh, yes I think I'll have a bit of a rest too, been a long day and its not often they let me out of the pentagon. Almost like having a holiday…" Kellar smiled to himself and started to protest when Ieno picked up what obviously was his bag and began carrying it towards Lennox. Ieno smiled and made a placating gesture, and Kellar gave in and allowed the man to carry his stuff. Simmons then noticed he was being left behind and quickly grabbed his bag and caught up with the other two.

Lennox looked up at the various robotic faces, yet no one gave any indication of whether it WAS ok for him to take them down below right now or not. He shrugged and said "Sure, follow me."

Ironhide watched the new human intently as he left with Lennox. Ratchet besides him was doing the same, although whether he was seeing the same things was impossible to say.

The man was young, younger than Lennox, and yet he was not only a captain, but the head of a highly funded top secret government organisation. Banachek had been nothing like this man, much more what you would expect for such an important position. The guy had a strange upbeat manner for an important high ranking official too. He also, by the look of it, had balls of steel as humans would say. He was not afraid or even intimidated by them despite only just being exposed to them, and he had seen the door being taken out… No there had been no fear in his appraisal of the door's destruction, just open admiration of the firepower.

Ironhide watched his back closely as the man walked away besides Lennox. Then he noticed something, a limp. If he hadn't have been walking next to Lennox, who didn't have one, maybe it wouldn't have been so noticeable but nether the less it was there…. He transmitted to Ratchet to check it out, as he was the one with the more intense scanning array when it came to such things.

**You're right Ironhide, there are the traces of a bad injury, but its healed so well you would almost never know its there… looks like a nasty stab or cut, very deep and long. Actually too long, he should have lost his leg to an injury like this, and yet here he is, walking around like nothings wrong…**

**Not quite **Ironhide transmitted back **Is there anything else?**

**No, except he's in unusually good physical condition for the head of a government organisation, I've noticed that such a job often makes the humans in such positions let themselves go at least little, but he's in even better shape than our friend Lennox there. **

Ironhide digested this. Physically fit. A bad old injury. Unwavering courage, even when facing the unknown. Admiration, not fear, of a highly destructive weapon system. And a captain? Banachek had not been a captain, so it couldn't be an honour awarded with the job…

Soldier, he thought.

By why put a young guy like that in charge of a whole sector? Surely he would be better put to use in field ops somewhere, unless his injury prevented it? Ironhide doubted it. Therefore there must be another reason why this man was in such an authoritive position despite his age and attitude.

**Interesting **her transmitted back to Ratchet.

The men all got into the lift, which while small to the Cybertronians was comically huge for the humans. _We'll have to remedy that_ thought Optimus as he watched the doors close.

"We may as well stay up here to discuss this," Optimus said, brandishing the uneven lump of metal again, "It will be quicker than waiting for the lift to come back up and ferry us down one at a time"

Ironhide and Ratchet both moved closer to their leader and the strange substance he had in his hands. Ironhide took it gently and started examining the strange pocks and holes in its surface.

"This is what I know…" Optimus began.


	3. On The Way

_Hello everyone, and thank you for the reviews =_) _(thanks especially to Soului for the knid words). I'm afraid that the crossover is not with X-men, although now you guys have said it I can see where the similarities lie! I'm still taking guesses, although this chapter drops some pretty huge hints._

_Enjoy.

* * *

  
_

It was hot.

Ironhide's black paintjob blistered under the unforgiving glare of the desert sun they where travelling under. Dust from the road, kicked up by Ratchet in front of him, blocked his field of vision ahead and was working its way into every nook and cranny his external plating didn't cover. In short, the mech was not in the best of moods or most comfortable of dispositions.

The fact that he was towing a make shift trailer was not helping. In front of him the one Ratchet was pulling rattled and bounced alarmingly. The things was about as practical to tow as a three legged pig, but here they all were, pulling them down a faint dirt track in the scorching desert heat. Well three of them anyway, Bumblebee was still at Sam's, and therefore had been spared this torture.

Inside Ironhide's cab, Lennox gazed out the side window at the featureless view surrounding them. It had taken them hours to get this far, and they still had hours to go.

He was trying to remember why he had thought it would be a good idea to tag along on this trip, when right now he could at least be back in the _relative_ comfort of the Autobot base…

all by himself…

no one to talk to…

oh yeah.

That was why he was along for the ride. Staying in that place for two days by himself was not an appealing notion, and all the autobots at the base had been needed to go out immediately to Sector 11.

Lennox played the conversations of this morning back and forth in his head, mainly from lack of anything else to do. Ironhide had been silent for the last hour, and wasn't fond of driving with the radio playing.

* * *

It had been after everyone had got up and had breakfast in the human quarters of the base, and all four of them had gone up to the 'command centre' with Lennox leading the way. Optimus had asked him to bring them there shortly after he had woken up, sending just a slight tinge of paranoia through the soldier. Even when they slept it seemed, the robots where keeping tabs on them.

When the four men had entered the room the atmosphere in hadn't been the warmest. A heavy silence had hung in the air, with Ironhide standing furthest back from the doors, arms crossed. Ratchet stood just to one side of Optimus, who was closest to them, head bent over the curious lump of metal Optimus had presented to them yesterday. The humans had started the long walk towards the Cybertronians as Optimus began crossing the room towards them, the large robot thinking that more appropriate facilities for humans where defiantly needed in the future. Crouching down as he reached them, as he always did when addressing humans, Optimus had began the conversation,

"Good morning gentlemen, I hope that you are fully rested and where content with your accommodation over the night." He had begun, his manners impeccable as always.

"Everything was fine thank you Optimus," Kellar replied, smiling slightly as the mech continued.

"We have reached a decision, and have decided to take up your generous offer, Captain Ieno. If you truly do have large quantities of this substance that you have no use for, then we will gladly accept it for use in our base."

The strange captain had smiled, "I am glad to hear that Optimus, for one thing our accountancy department will be relieved, they where splitting their heads open trying to wrangle the budget to allow another dump trip this year."

Optimus' gaze had been fixed on the young man as he spoke in reply, "I know that you are eager to get back to your own headquarters, and that Sectary Kellar's time is limited and he also needs to get there as soon as possible, so we are ready to travel with you now to retrieve the material."

Ieno had been surprised at this, "Really? Well that is good news for us but are you ready to go today? Surely you need more help to tow enough of the stuff back to be any use…"

To which Optimus had shook his head, "No, the three of us will be sufficient; we can tow weights far greater than we appear able to, and our scout would be poorly suited to this task. We will tow what we can back with us now, and determine just what we can do with it. Then if any more is required, I hope that you would be open to providing us with it."

The captain had paused, rubbing his chin as he met Optimus' optics. After only a few seconds he had responded, "Sure, that sounds like the best solution for all."

Optimus stood up at this, saying "Excellent, we are ready to leave when you are. Please assemble in the lobby when you are ready to depart."

Ieno had nodded once and then turned to leave the room, with Simmons following suit. Kellar had beckoned to Optimus, and once again the giant mech bent down to the man's level, beginning a quiet conversation which Lennox had known he wasn't included in. He therefore began wandering over to Ironhide, leaving Ratchet in the company of the metal blob he was studying.

Lennox, upon reaching his friend, had looked up at the robot, unsure whether or not to ask.

"I don't like this Lennox." Had been the simple statement. "I'm not happy about taking anything from a 'Sector'," the disdain in his voice as he spoke that last word speaking volumes of his thoughts on the matter. "Still Optimus thinks its ok, and Ratchet is enamoured with that crap they're fobbing off on us, so I guess that makes everything fine." Ironhide still hadn't looked at his friend, focusing on some unimportant spot on the corroded wall. He had sighed, obviously resigning himself to the situation, before extending his invitation to Lennox to accompany them into the desert. They would be gone two days if he stayed behind, as it would take one to reach Sector 11 and another to make the return journey.

It hadn't taken long for Lennox to accept the offer, and Ironhide had resumed his staring into space. Lennox had hovered for a moment afterwards, before turning to go pack an overnight bag, not knowing what to say to reassure the mech.

* * *

He still didn't know. They hadn't spoken much during the journey, Ironhide choosing not to share any of the information Optimus must have passed onto him during the evening. Lennox stared dully out of the window with glazed eyes, not really seeing the brown landscape as it slide by. All he knew was that it would take six hours to reach the base, and they still had four to go. He sighed deeply, having found sleep impossible due to the rough track. He once again pondered why a well funded government organisation would have such poor transport links, but such thoughts where useless, and his years spent as a soldier simply accepting scenarios rather than questioning them meant he could easily curtail such pointless wool gathering.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a large water bottle, taking a long swig. He silently thanked Ironhide for keeping the cab temperature at a tolerable level, there was no way he could have the window open with all the dust the three Cybertronians were throwing up. His thoughts moved to the three men riding with Optimus, and had a fleeting wish that he was with the other humans, if only to listen to Simmon's unstoppable blabber. At least that way he might get some more information on this 'Sector 11' and what they did there. Sighing once again he looked at the dashboard, slightly annoyed. This had not been what he had in mind when he had planned his visit, and the journey would go a lot faster if Ironhide would just talk to him. But he could tell that the mech wasn't in the mood, and from the way the truck was running over the lumps in the road, rather than avoiding them like he had done at first, indicated that Ironhide was lost in his own thoughts. Lennox frowned and reached for his MP3 player, sticking the earphones in and ramming the volume up high. He hadn't used it at first in case Ironhide had felt like talking, but if he wanted to be left alone to think things through then Lennox wasn't about to interrupt him with questions. He closed his eyes and tried to find a more comfortable niche in the seat beneath him. If only he could get to sleep, this would be a whole lot easier…

* * *

Ironhide vaguely noticed that Lennox's vitals had slowed, indicating his friend had fallen asleep. The mech had no idea how the man was able to, with that device of his blaring in his ears constantly, but each to his own. He once again focused on the feed Optimus was transmitting to Ratchet and himself, of the conversation that was going on in their leader's cab. Ironhide doubted that Ratchet was still paying attention but he was still hanging on every word, listening for something, _anything_, that would give him an insight into this Sector 11. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, Simmon's was doing most of the talking and it wasn't about his new job but his old one, back at the now disbanded Sector 7. Ieno seemed quite interested in the things that had gone on there, and Simmons seemed quite happy to oblige now that Ieno obviously had clearance to know about the Cybertronians. Some of their topics reminded Ironhide why he disliked Simmons so much, but he tried to counter such thoughts with the knowledge that the vast amount of experimentation Sector 7 had done had been on Megatron, the slagger. Still, the stories about the sad little things Sector 7 had made and destroyed with the Allspark's power got under his skin. He didn't know how Optimus tolerated it, but then that was why he was in charge. Always the level-headed one.

He brought up the map showing their route again, wondering like Lennox had about the impracticality of this base's location. And why did Kellar need to visit this place all of a sudden? Had the man demanded to know of all other 'Sectors' after the nasty surprise Sector 7 had turned out to be? He could only guess. And this metal, it was baffling. The alloy was a little too advanced for humans, which probably explained their inability to re-use it once formed, but where had they initially got it from? The most logical explanation was that this Sector, like 7, was responsible for studying a sort of alien life that had invaded this planet, much like Megatron had done. He knew that many advances in human technology had been made from the data gathered from the Decepticon.

Ironhide was uneasy with this train of thought. Sector 7's treatment of Bumblebee had showed that they made no distinction between potential friends and foes, assuming the worst and resorting straight to violence. If this Sector were the same, they could easily have innocents imprisoned within their facility, doomed to a life of poking and prodding at best, and torture and death at worst. There was simply no way to know without Ieno being more forthcoming with information on his Sector, and in Ironhide's eyes accepting aid from this organisation without knowing what its objectives and methodologies were was not only risky but immoral. He thought that Optimus and Ratchet would have shared this view, but they both seemed appeased by Kellar's acceptance of the place. Optimus had told the two mechs that Kellar had assured him that this Sector 11 was unlike 7, that their work really was both urgent and beneficial, and that they should have no qualms about their motives. It made Ironhide feel angry that Kellar didn't feel they could be trusted with what Sector 11 got up to, but that was humans and their rules for you. Obviously the information was on a need to know basis and, equally obviously, the Cybertronains didn't need to know.

Ironhide continued to examine the map with their route traced on it. The line was almost perfectly straight, going from their base straight out into the desert for mile after mile. He looked at the dots that represented Sector 11, their own base and then added one to represent the nearest settlement to both of them. As he had thought, the town that was 2 hours from the Autobot base was also the closest human settlement to Sector 11, making it approximately 8 hours away from the nearest major road system and various conveniences that humans required. He knew that the government made self-reliant bases occasionally but to be so far away and so difficult to reach, how had such a place even been built? And their base, their new home, was directly in between the two, albeit being far closer to the town. What a coincidence.

Ironhide still didn't like it, of all the places for the government to put them, it just _happens_ to be in the same area as the one organisation that could help them out with their construction problems. Ironhide couldn't fit the pieces of the puzzle together yet, but the whole situation made him uneasy. Perhaps this was what the U.S. government had had in mind all along when placing them here, and they really did just want to help out. Maybe. But Simmon's story about making the suggestion to his department, rather than it being planned all along, rang true to Ironhide. The man wasn't a great liar and with all the scans Ironhide at least had done on him it was easy to see that he was telling the truth. Simmons had thought this up, and now it was happening. That was also a slight reason to be concerned, Simmons had not always had their best interests at heart so why did he now?

It was too much to think about, Ironhide decided, too many unknowns, too many variables for him to form any kind of opinion on the matter, and so he was left with unease and distrust to fall back on. Not a situation he enjoyed being put in.

He tried to distract himself with thoughts of Chromia, she was almost here after all. His sparkmate, after so many years… But those thoughts just led him to a grimmer one, that there was no way he wanted his beloved here if they were getting mixed up in another Sector without knowing the whole score. He was too paranoid to allow it, although he knew that Chromia had a mind of her own, and upon learning of any trouble here on Earth would only want to rush to aid them all the faster. A part of him just couldn't help but think what if… what if…

What if this Sector was Sector 7 reborn and they were all heading into a trap? What if the U.S. government has decided housing an alien race locked in civil war was too much of a burden on them, and too much a risk to their civilians? Once again, no answers came to Ironhide. He tried to reassure himself that Kellar was a decent man, and would never willingly be part of such a deception, but then there was the snag, Kellar could also have been lied to… The higher ups in the Pentagon had obviously kept things from him before, and as such they could do it again.

An especially large hole in the road jolted the truck hard, reminding Ironhide to pay some attention to the road beneath his tyres. The shock had woken Lennox, who grumpily grumbled something at him before drowsing off once more. Diverting more of his processors to the task of driving, and away from the mess that was his thoughts on Sector 11, Ironhide applied himself to just getting to the damm place without destroying his suspension and giving Lennox even more reason to be irritable with him. When he had gathered his thoughts more coherently, Ironhide would want to share them with the captain, but for now having a confused, circular conversation with a bad tempered human was something he was in no mood to go through.

* * *

_Darkness shrouded all in the large chamber. There were no lights here to banish the pitch black, nothing to reveal what the room held. Yet there was something there, something which faintly chattered to itself every now and again over the rasping coughs it was making, almost as if it were trying to breathe. The sounds were not regular but spasmodic, sounding small and strange as they echoed in the room. Every now and again the thing would shift slightly, the only indication of the activity being the faint wet sounds of its skin moving over the metalic floor and the occasional hiss before it settled again. Anyone watching the scene, and listening to the tiny sounds the thing made, may have been moved to pity it, locked in the darkness and from the sounds of it in pain, or at least discomfort. But those watching the scene had no pity in their hearts, no concern or sympathy for the creature. _

_And for good reason._

The scene was being monitored in another room, multiple TV screens and a stereo system providing live feeds from the chamber. Only one of the screens was showing the image in the visible spectrum and no one was monitoring it, despite it being by far the largest screen in the room. There would be little point, as all it displayed was pure, undiluted blackness. Instead the human occupants of the room were all focusing on other screens that used different wavelengths of light to display the room and its prisoner. The screen tuned to detect infra-red wavelengths, interestingly enough, was also blank.

"How's are her dorsal lacerations looking this morning?" one man asked, looking at paperwork on a clipboard, pen in mouth as he flicked through it. Every now and again the pen would catch on the small microphone that followed the curve of his jaw line, leading back to attach to a headset with one earpiece covering his right ear entirely. One of the people seated observing a screen tapped something into the keyboard in front of them and the view displayed to them shifted slightly.

"Showing significant closure sir, although the same can't be said for those on her left flank. She's favouring the other side to give them a chance to seal but they are that little bit deeper, so it will be a few more days before they close too."

"hmmmm." The man said, not taking his eyes off the paperwork before him, chewing absentmindedly on the pen top. "Well she's making good progress, and her recovery will accelerate when the new drones are put in. I'm a still a little worried about that rattle though; she doesn't breathe so why is she making that noise?"

"Today's scans show that she has substantial internal damage, with at least 2 organs ruptured. Looking at the data, the most likely cause of the noise is the periodical clearing of the gastro-intestinal tract, with the excess blood and mucus being physically coughed up and expelled to facilitate healing and prevent blockages from building up."

"I see." The man said, now looking up at the person speaking to him and the taking the scan sheets offered. He held them up into the light, peering at them intently. "hmmmm. The injuries highlighted here are not life threatening so I guess its nothing to worry about. Good work."

Silence, save from the occasional clipped tones of typing or the brief scratching of a pen on paper, then filled the room. The man walked up to the large screen which showed nothing, pursing his lips briefly.

"Have all the dusk checks been run?" He asked, his back to the rest of the room, still staring into the darkness on the high resolution screen. There where several mummers of acknowledgement, and the man before the screen nodded to himself.

"Good," the man said. He reached up and pressed one of several small buttons on the side of his head set, a crackle of static briefly sounding from the speakers set up in not only this room, but throughout a large part of the complex that lay beyond it.

"Q Quad and all outliers, this is Q command, all stations stand by for the noon shift." The words echoed down the corridors and through the rooms surrounding them, the people hard at work within pausing. The man watched as a small display mounted besides the large, dark screen quickly lit up with red dots, individual ones lighting up in a seemingly random order. Eventually they formed a solid bar of red going down one side of the screen and a green light flicked on.

"All stations, level one cleared. Confirm." Boomed out.

A second set of dots, adjacent to the third but coloured yellow this time, flickered into life. Soon there was a complete yellow bar besides the red one, and another green light appeared.

"All stations, level two cleared, stand by." The man the pressed another button on the headset and motioned to an assistant behind him.

"Prep lights" He simply said, his voice this time echoing only in the room he was in. The assistant tapped several keys, and all eyes turned to the black screen the man was standing before.

Another button was pressed on the headset, and this time the man covered the microphone with his hand while saying, "On the mark."

He then uncovered the microphone, and said, "Wake up Bunting."

This time his voice reverberated round the darkened chamber, and as the last syllables of the sentence still hung in the air, brilliant white lights snapped on, leaving no corner of the chamber hidden. The room was completely bare, save its occupant.

The expressions of the people watching the screen did not change as the creature immediately responded to the stimulus. She heaved herself upwards, not able to stand but still in a more upright position than before. Her frame shook with outrage, the harsh lights reflecting off the smooth portions of her hide and casting angular shadows where the various plates and spikes interrupted it. Wounds covered her, leaking unsavoury looking fluids in their attempts to heal. Teeth bared, she opened her maw and screamed, holding her head high in protest at such treatment, the high pitched, awful noise accompanied by the guttural sound of blood and slime being forced from her throat by the vocalisation.

The people watching didn't flinch, and the man just smiled.


	4. Helping Hands

_Greetings all! Next chapter is here... thank you for the reviews! _

_to the person who reveiwed annomaynously (wow I can't spell that!) thanks! The other film you are thinking about is called 'Species', and considering the monster from that was designed by the same guy who desinged the aliens (H.R. Gieger) its no wonder both of them sprang to mind =)_

_Flower K. Owl, am glad you think so, hope ou enjoy this chapter too_

_

* * *

_The sun was just beginning to set as the autobots finally rolled up to the perimeter of Sector 11, the clouds snatching at its red colour, fading to oranges and pinks. The convoy slowly decelerated at Captain Ieno's prompting, coming to a halt at the outer gates of the base.

And what gates they were.

"Lennox, wake up. We're here" Ironhide said, projecting his voice into his cab. Lennox mumbled something inaudible as he rubbed his eyes free of sleep, glancing around at his surroundings. His eyes ran over the perimeter fence of sector 11, and the entrance that they were about to go through.

"Wow"

"Indeed"

A stark, solid wall of dark metal gleamed dully in the fading light, catching the pinks of the setting sun here and there. The wall was 12 feet tall at least, and toped with uncountable, wicked looking spikes. In front of them the entrance to the Sector loomed, the large gates made from the same dull metal the fences were constructed from. Before the gates there was one small concrete building, from which guards where coming out and up to the convoy, no doubt to talk to Ieno.

"Lennox, those walls, they are entirely made out of this metal that we are supposed to be collecting."

Lennos couldn't take his eyes off the imposing barrier. He'd seen many a strange thing in his time, but the sight before him now was edging its way into his top 20.

"What the hell could they have in there to need a garden fence like that?" Lennox wondered out loud.

"I do not know, the wall is 2 meters thick as well as being so high and formidable."

Suddenly Optimus started moving ahead of them, Ratchet following suit. The three guards who had come out to chat to Ieno were heading back to their concrete bunker, and Ironhide scanned the structure out of curiousity. There were seven other humans in there, of mixed genders, mostly sitting around in front of a TV. As the three men rejoined them, words were spoken and all of a sudden every person in the building save the three who had just come back rushed to their nearest window, gaping at the convoy as it drove by towards the gates.

Ironhide didn't know what to think of this, and he certainly didn't like being stared at. Was it possible that they knew what they really were, and that was why they were so interested? The mech grew a tad irritated at the thought, weren't they meant to be top secret material?

He voiced his thoughts to Lennox, who pondered the idea for a moment before shrugging. "I wouldn't worry about it Ironhide, even if the whole base knows, who are they going to tell? There's no one except them for miles."

Ironhide was not placated by this, and the eager scrutiny of the guards coupled with the intimidating appearance of Sector 11's outer defences was doing nothing to ease his fears about trusting them. Something was very wrong about this place.

Optimus stopped just in front of the gates and Ieno hopped out of his cab, walking up to on side of the gates. He began pressing buttons on a control panel embedded in the side of the structure, and several complicated sequences and a fair few scans of hands, eyes and a vocal match later the gates rumbled into life.

Surprisingly, they slide open quickly and effortlessly, making Ironhide all the more irritable at the thought of how their gates must have looked to the head of Sector 11. Ieno turned to the three idling vehicles with a grin on his face.

"Well everyone, welcome to my world. Do come in and make yourselves at home."

* * *

The three vehicles rumbled down the straight road leading from the perimeter fence to the main complex of buildings up ahead. Empty desert occupied the space between the outer walls and Sector 11, stretching for 3 miles by Ironhide's reconing. Instead of a dirt track, the surface beneath them was a proper road, a welcome change for the Cybertronians. As they approached the buildings, roads forked off both left and right. Optimus moved to follow the left one at Ieno's direction and the others followed suit. The road curved slightly, as if to circle the buildings they were driving besides, and as they moved around the complex some structures slightly apart from the main building came into veiw. Large hangers, with doors of a size that meant one thing, aircraft hangers. There was a small runway and several helipads off to the left of the hangers, linked to them by various roads for taxiing. To the right, the main bulk of Sector 11 loomed, and roads lead directly from the hangers up to equally large doors into the huge building. As the three mechs slowed down, Ratchet and Ironhide still following Optimus' lead, a large blue siren light began flashing and a megaphone attached to the outside of the building emitted three sharp tones. Slightly puzzled at this the three vehicles stopped, and shortly one of the doors into Sector 11 began opening. Once again, the large structure moved swiftly and smoothly, and the entire party save one intently peered inside the room that was being revealed to them.

It was a large chamber, with a high ceiling, although not quite high enough for Optimus to stand if transformed. Over half of the floor space was pilled high with ragged chunks of the dull, pitted metal they had come to collect. This was obviously a storage facility for it, near the helipads so that it could easily be transported away. The robots were beginning to realise why the place had such poor roads connecting them to the world. In this Sector, they flew rather than drove.

Six people where waiting for them inside the room. Five had some sort of uniform on, although each was heavily customised. The other was more formally attired but still in clothing that resembled a soldier's loose, practical outfit. The uniformed personnel consisted of four men and one woman, each lounging fairly nonchalantly and chatting amongst themselves. The other man stood by them, but did not attempt to join the conversation, arms folded across his chest as he gazed at the three vehicles.

Optimus began to move forwards into the chamber, and Ratchet and Ironhide followed slowly. There was enough room for all three to pull in comfortably, trailers and all, and once inside the doors quickly and quietly closed. An identical blue light that had been flashing in the room promptly stopped its display and another speaker produced three more tones, identical to the ones made when the door had opened. Ironhide tried to repress his unease at the situation. They were now locked inside a top secret government organisation, which they had little to no information about. Great.

Captain Ieno jumped out of Optimus' cab, and the five uniformed humans snapped to attention, their eyes burning into the three vehicles that were parked before them. The other man gave a quick salute before moving towards Ieno.

"At ease." Ieno said, and the uniforms relaxed somewhat, yet still remained alert. Kellar and Simmons both were following Ieno's lead, and Lennox moved to get out of Ironhide's cab too. The instant he got out of the cab Lennox felt… odd. It was almost tangible yet at the same time completely without reason. Lenoox wondered if Kellar or any of the others felt it too as he gazed uneasily around the room. Ieno moved forward to meet the man striding towards him and a small device with a screen on it was presented to the captain. The two men bent their heads over the device, clearly excluding the others for a moment. However, the awkward silence Lennox was expecting never came.

"Simmons! What the hell are you wearing man, you know the rules! You're back on Sector turf now you should be out of that crap!" All of the uniforms where approaching the rest of the party, one of the men hailing Simmon's in an easy-going yet taunting manner.

"Hell guys, I didn't have my Sector dudds with me to change into, I'll do it ASAP I swear!" Simmon's joked back, obviously acquainted with the group that was now standing in a rough semi circle around them.

"So who's this crowd Simmons?" The girl in the group asked, eyes glinting as she surveyed the visitors. "You brought some of your robots to visit us?"

Two of the three cybertronians shifted uneasily, although Optimus remained still.

"Heh, something like that Drayton. This is the Sectary of Defence, John Kellar, I'll have you know so watch that lip." Simmons countered. The girl just grinned back at him. Simmons continued, "and this is Captain Will Lennox, part of the three D group." At this the group's gave shifted as one onto Lennox, who greeted them with a quiet "Hey" being as protocol was obviously being thrown out of the window here. Lennox briefly pondered about he lack of inquiry into just what three D was, but quickly guessed that it meant either these guys where disciplined enough not to ask (which judging from this situation was unlikely) or already knew that it stood for Decepticon Detection and Defence Group (which was worrying). Just how much did these guys know about the cybertronains?

"And this is Sergent Laybourn, Plant, Carlise, Drayton and Eassom, B2 team of Sector 11. The man talking to Ieno is Hutchison." Simmons said, finishing off the introductions as far as humans where concerned. Lennox noticed then that even though each of the uniforms the team wore varied greatly from person to person, they each had the same emblem sewn into the front left side of their jackets and shirts, a stylised 'B2' in red over a white background. Starting at the top edge of the badge, two black lines with spikes coming out of one side curved around the outside of the badge, framing the team's codename. At the bottom edge of the badge, the two lines crossed and rose up, ending in sickle points. Lennox's curiosity was tweaked by this; such imagery on a team badge would have a reason behind it, but what?

Simmons then was silent, something neither side was expecting. After only a few second's worth of silence one of the men, Carlise, spoke.

"Well? That's it? C'mon Simmons, don't hold out on us."

Simmons glanced slightly nervously behind him at the silent vehicles before the wide grin reappeared on his face. Before he could speak however, Ieno came over and interrupted, Hutchison by his side.

"Alright you guys, enough." The captain said, "I'll take it from here thanks Simmons." Simmons just continued grinning, obviously enjoying himself. "B2 team, Hutchison, allow me to introduce Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot faction of Cybertronians, and his two comrades Ironhide and Ratchet."

Optimus immediately began his transformation sequence and, after a moment's hesitation, Ratchet and Ironhide followed suite. Optimus squatted down, both to talk with the humans and to avoid bumping his head on the ceiling.

"Good afternoon to you all. I…"

But Optimus was cut off by the whoops and exclamations coming from B2. Hutchison rolled his eyes and sighed quietly to himself.

"OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT!"

"THAT, I'VE GOT NOTHING MAN THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!"

"HOLY CRAP SIMMONS, YOU WERE TELLING THE TRUTH!"

The shouting and general din continued for about a minute until Ieno hushed them with a slightly amused expression on his face.

"My God you acid junkies are excitable, stop acting like toddlers."

"Yeah but captain, wow. I mean, I dunno what I was expecting after reading last week's brief but… wow." One of the men, Plant, said. All of B2 were glancing between the robots and their boss, awe-struck expressions on their faces.

The Autobots and Lennox were all slightly taken aback by the lack of formality everyone was displaying, although Hutchison seemed to be trying to remain aloof from it all. They were all also rather curious as to how many people in this organisation now knew of their existence, to the point that all three 'bots were having a hurried conversation on the topic via transmission. At the other's prompting, Optimus decided that an inquiry would not be out of place and spoke up.

"Captain Ieno, I see that your personnel have been informed about our arrival in preparation for our visit. While I appreciate the measure as it means we can walk freely in your base I am curious as to the reasoning behind it. I know that as extraterrestrial life forms we are a highly classified secret, so why is it that your entire base appears to be well versed in our existence?"

Ieno smiled at Optimus, perhaps trying to put him at ease as he replied.

"I'm afraid that here it is protocol for our staff to be informed of any and all activities occurring within the limits of the base, with no exceptions. Sectary Kellar was told this when the idea of inviting you here was first put forward, and it was he who gave the clearance for all of Sector 11 to be briefed on your kind. Please do not be offended or alarmed by this Optimus, this rule is one of our oldest and most strictly enforced. For the safety of all our staff, there are no secrets at Sector 11."

"Oh really…" Ironhide muttered under his breath, unable to help himself. A small frown flickered across Optimus' face at this, but Ieno was already chuckling to himself at the remark and moving on.

"Speaking of protocols that must be observed, Hutchison is here to brief you all on what to expect here at Sector 11. We normally just give this people to read, but what with your size we figured a presentation might be easier."

"But we're only here for one night…" Ratchet began but Ieno was already shaking his head.

"There are no exceptions I'm afraid, if you come here you get the brief. It doesn't take too long." Ieno said, starting to walk towards the nearest wall, which did not have piles of 'scrap' metal stacked up against it. There was a table with a black box underneath it and projector on it, pointing towards the wall, and some chairs scattered around which all of the humans took advantage of. B2 lounged in their seats and chatted amongst themselves, laughing and sneaking looks at the gleaming robots every now and then. Simmons joined them, adopting the same causal attitude as the team whispered excited questions to him about the Cybertronians. Ieno sat next to Kellar, who in turn had Lennox on his other side. The three robots manoeuvred themselves awkwardly behind the seats, until each was sitting on the bare concrete floor facing the wall, Ironhide inwardly grumbling about how undignified this all was and how they all looked like sparklings attending their first seminar in school.

Hutchison walked to beside the projector and pressed a switch, the device humming into life. The man then produced some sort of remote and used it to turn the lights in the room off, the white beam from the projector now being the only source of light in the room save the three sets of glowing optics. Another button, and a slide came up on the blank wall in front of them, white with an emblem in the centre and 'SECTOR 11' written underneath. The man cleared his throat and then turned to address his small audience.

"Gentlemen, it is very important that you pay close attention to what I am about to tell you. What follows is a summary of some of the things to expect when in Sector 11, some of our protocols that we require you to adhere to while you are with us and equipment and safety procedures that you should use and follow should the need arise."

All the visitors save Kellar where privately confused and intrigued by this. As Ratchet had said, they were only here for one day, why was all this necessary? Lennox thought back to his first visit to Sector 7, it had been nothing like this when they had entered that facility, just a simple statement to say that whatever they saw was top secret.

Hutchison pressed a button on his remote. The slide changed to show an image of a small two way radio, with labels highlighting the functions of various buttons. At the same time, Hutchison reached under the table and pulled out the black box, opening it. Inside where many of the radios displayed over-head, and the man removed five of them. He approached his audience with them in hand, continuing talking.

"The device I am about to give you is extremely important. You must have it on you at all times when in Sector 11 without fail. Every person in the base has one, and it not only allows you to communicate with our personnel at any time but also has a locator chip in it so that we can tell where you are in the base at any time. It is extremely important that you have this device on you at all times. I cannot stress this enough. If we have an emergency situation then we will use this device to contact you and to locate you if needed." He handed the devices out to each of the visitors, not even blinking when he gave the devices to the Cybertronians, despite how ridiculously tiny they looked. He looked up at the three robots and addressed them directly, "As you three will only be entering this room of the base, this is mostly for the benefit of the two human visitors but you are still required to have them on you until you leave tomorrow. You will hand them back in to the gate guards as you leave."

No one said anything in reply, the man was obviously deadly serious about all of it so what was there to be said?

Hutchison made his way back to the front, still speaking.

"You will not have to use these devices in all likelihood, but should the need arise, there are two different channels you can use to communicate with two different groups here at Sector 11. They button labelled '1' on the slide is for opening a channel to our visitor liaison team, or VLT. If there is anything you need, they are the people to get in touch with. The button labelled '2' however should only be used if you are in danger, witnessing a dangerous situation, are injured or have discovered injured or deceased individuals in the base. If such a situation arises, use this button to open a channel to our emergence response coordinator, who will send out a response team such as B2 to assist you.

I am now going to explain some of the reasons why you might contact the VLT. They are not only here to assist in making your stay as comfortable as can be, but also are here to ensure that the environment here at Sector 11 is not overly disturbing to you. At this base it is a common phenomenon for people to feel extremes of emotion for no logical reason, the most common being intense feelings of depression, fear and the polar opposites, feelings of love and devotion. People usually acclimatise to the environment with time, but as you will be staying such a short time, you will not and so using this service is of greater importance for you. If these feelings are becoming overwhelming, or are rapidly oscillating between one and another, it is essential that you talk to the VLT as soon as possible so that they can investigate and see if anything can be done about it. The same goes for any hallucinations or dreams you may have, as newcomers to the base you will almost certainly dream tonight and I would ask that you report whatever you can remember of these dreams to the VLT as soon as you awaken. I have no idea whether or not the Cybertronians will experience such phenomenon while here, as we have never had beings of your nature at Sector 11 before. However should you also experience any of the above please inform the VLT at once.

Another reason for contacting them is in the event of you seeing anything unusual in the base. It is standard procedure here at Sector 11 for all 'unusual noticeable events' or UNEs to be reported and investigated. This will seem strange to you, and you may feel foolish reporting small occurrences that you ordinarily would shrug off in normal life. However it is an important part of maintaining a safe environment here at Sector 11, and so if you encounter absolutely anything that seems out of place to you, no matter what it is, then it is essential that you inform the VLT, who will deal with it appropriately.

Now, on to emergency procedures. In the event of an emergency, a red light will begin flashing in all the rooms throughout the base, similar to the blue lights that you saw flashing when you entered this room from outside. There will also be a single tonal warning sound, again like the three you heard when entering except much higher pitched. In this event, you are to go to the nearest doorway leading onto a corridor and follow the red lights that will illuminate on the floor. These will lead you to a safe assembly area. Another important thing to note is that if at any time you are unable to follow the red path, use button 2 on your radios to contact the emergency response coordinator to report the fact that you are stuck and the reason why you cannot proceed. Follow the instructions you are given, and if it is not dangerous to do so, try and proceed to the assembly area if possible. Finally, should you come across any members of a response team during an emergency; you are to follow their orders without question, immediately. Response team members can be identified by their team emblem, which is always on the left breast of their clothing. The emblem will always have the team's code on it, should you need to relay that information to anyone via your radio. There are eight response teams currently, each with five members. Their codes are A9, B2, C6, C7, D1, D2, D4 and D5. If you ever require assistance in an emergency situation, any member of a response team will be able to help you."

Hutchison finally finished, his gaze shifting between each of the 'visitors'. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "That is all gentlemen, I hope that your stay at Sector 11 is an uneventful one. I also hope that you are willing to adhere to these procedures despite the fact we have given you none of the reasoning behind having such elaborate safety precautions. It is in your best interests, and the interests of the base at large, to follow these rules even though you do not understand them. Captain?"

Hutchison was now looking at Ieno, who got up from his seat and stretched.

"Thank you Hutchison, now I propose that we all get some rest and begin loading the trailers early in the morning. I can offer accommodation for both Sectary Kellar and Captain Lennox inside the base, but I'm afraid for you Cybertronians we have nothing really suited to your size, you can stay in this room if you wish, or can stay in the aircraft hangers outside which have plenty of room inside them." He smiled apologetically at Optimus, "I only wish we had something better to offer you…"

Optimus cut him off, starting to rise from the sitting position he was in, "The aircraft hangers sound perfectly suited to our needs Captain, and I agree that the best course of action at this point is to rest for the night and rise early to load up and return to our own base."

Ieno nodded back at the large mech, pleased, "When ever you are ready, ask one of B2 to open the doors out of here and to let you into the hangers. They can then show Sectary Kellar and Captain Lennox to their quarters for the night in the base. I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me now, as I have several matters that require my attention. You go away for just a few days and it seems everything falls apart…" he said grinning at Hutchison, who did not return the expression. Ieno continued without missing a beat, "I will come down tomorrow morning to see you off, but I'm afraid I can't be spared to help load. So I will see you all in the morning, Good night."

With that, Ieno and Hutchison turned, walked to the door that lead to the rest of Sector 11, and were gone.

A rather pregnant silence followed their departure, until Kellar broke the silence.

"Well gentlemen, I would personally like to retire to my quarters now, I have some briefs to go over before my meetings tomorrow. I doubt I will have time to come down and see you off so I hope that all goes well, and I'm sure I will see you all soon."

Optimus nodded once at the man.

"Of course Sectary Kellar, Thank you once again for all of the time and effort you have put into arranging this endeavour, we greatly appreciate it. I think it best that we also retire to the hanger to await the morning, if B2 will oblige us." The large mech responded, looking at the team for confirmation. One of the men, Sergent Laybourn, met his gaze and replied.

"Ok, we'll escort you guys into the hangar and then take Sectary Kellar and Captain Lennox to their quarters for the night. Eassom!" He barked the man's name and made a vague gesture with one of his hands, the other man promptly nodded and started walking towards the far wall with the large doors that lead to the outside. Laybourn and the others stared walking towards the doors too, but when Lennox moved to follow the Sergent waved him back.

"No, you stay here with Sectary Kellar and Simmons, this won't take long."

Lennox held back a sigh. He would much rather just sleep in Ironhide's cab tonight than go into this strange place and be separated from the robots, but he doubted he had a choice. It was so bizarre, they seemed so informal here, yet they stuck to their rules with a fierce, unquestioning manner that contradicted that attitude. Lennox was starting to feel like whatever happened in this place, he was better off not knowing about it. Optimus and Ratchet both wished him good night before transforming into their alts, and Ironhide, looking unhappy, also grunted a goodbye before transforming and slowly rolling towards the doors to join his fellow Autobots. Meanwhile Eassom has reached the doors and was typing another long code into a control pad beside them. By the time the sequence was entered, the Autobots and the rest of the team were waiting just behind him. Again, the three tones sounded and the blue light came on as the doors slide open, revealing the near darkness of the desert night outside. Without any comment, B2 walked out into the night with the three vehicles following them, the doors closing quickly behind them to three more pips.

Simmons walked over to where he had dropped his belongings to pick them up, with Lennox and Kellar following suit. As always, Simmons felt the need to fill the silence with something.

"Listen guys, just a word of warning before B2 get back, Hutchison was telling the truth about all that emotion and dream crap but he was playing it down. Just be prepared to feel awful once we go into the base proper, we're sort of on the outskirts here so we're not getting the worst of it." Simmons gave them a grin, although his warning sounded sincere, "Seriously, when I first got here… it was awful. But the VLT are there for you guys, don't hesitate to buzz them, it's not like they do anything else around here."

Despite the unease he was already feeling, Lennox tried to put a brave face on it all.

"Come on Simmons, even for you this is a little too much. How bad can it be?"

Simmon's grin became slightly fixed, his brow creasing slightly.

"Trust me, the kind of stuff that happens here?" He shook his head and looked away, "Words fail me, and not just because the information is classified."

Kellar sighed, looking tired and slightly concerned. Lennox wondered if he knew what the purpose of this Sector was or if he had come here to be told, and shown around. Impossible to say without asking.

The three beeps indicating the doors where opening sounded again, snapping Lennox back to the present. B2 walked in, chattering to each other about the three robots they had just escorted to bed, remarking on their luck at getting to assist the loading tomorrow morning with them. As they approached the three waiting men, Laybourn started talking over the general conversation to them.

"Right, now that they have been taken care of we better get you guys sorted. Are you hungry? Dinner's been and gone here but if you want we can head over to the cafeteria and get some whipped up for you."

Simmons spoke before the other two had chance.

"I thought you'd never ask Laybourn, c'mon lets get going."

The whole group made its way to the door that Ieno and Hutchison had used, Laybourn taking the lead and placing his hand on a scan pad while typing a combination into another. The door slid open and the group made its way into the wide corridor that lay beyond, the visitors following B2. Lennox noted how thick the walls in-between the room they had just been in and the corridor they had entered were. Said door hissed closed behind them, and the group had not taken more then three steps down the corridor when it hit every member of the group.

Lennox let a small gasp escape him, and Kellar stopped in his tracks completely, it was awful. There was a terrible pressure pulsing through their minds, tainted with the unmistakable feeling of hatred. Fear spiked through Lennox and Kellar out of reflex, and faintly they could both hear inhuman cries and roars. Despite the fact they also where being put through the same ordeal, B2 and Simmons showed no outward response to the assault save some irritated sighs and creased brows.

"Christ she's in an arsey mood today. You guys alright?" Sergeant Laybourn asked turning to Lennox and Kellar who where both now in the rear of the group. Upon seeing their shellshocked expressions he grinned and tried to reassure them.

"Don't worry about it; things will quieten down in no time. C'mon lets get you guys some grub."

Kellar resumed walking and Lennox tried to focus, tried to put the sensations to the back of his mind. As he trudged further into the heart of the strange place, he futilely wished once more that he'd been allowed to stay with the autobots. Back where his mind was his own, and he couldn't hear the screams.


	5. Escape

_Sorry about the delay guys, RL getting in the way! Thanks for the reviews =)_

* * *

Someone was knocking on his door.

The sound gradually brought Lennox back to consciousness, and he groggily looked around his small room as he tried to clear his drowsy mind.

"Captain Lennox?" More knocking.

Stifling a groan, Lennox hauled himself upright and made his way over to the door. A glance at the glowing clock on a dresser told him it was 3.24am, and he sighed, only about half an hour since he had last woken up. It had not been a good night for Lennox, the unpleasant atmosphere of the base hadn't changed since they had entered, and once he slept he was quickly awoken with nightmares and headaches. While he had no desire to use the two way radio to contact those… what where they called again? he couldn't even remember, he had been writing down what he could remember of the dreams. No use bothering the guest team every few minutes he woke up, he thought, better to write all the stuff down and give it to them in one go.

The knocking continued until Lennox opened the door, to find two people in Sector 11 duds standing outside of it.

"Ah Captain Lennox, sorry to wake you so early. My name is Tackaberry and this is Bowden, we're with the VLT." The young lady said, smiling up at him. Both she and the man with her looked completely alert and fresh despite the unusual hour, and they both had plain white badges on their shirts with 'VLT' in large black letters. "Is it alright if we come in for a minute?"

"Sure." Lennox said, gesturing into the room while holding the door open for them. The two people entered, the man carrying a medium sized case.

Tackaberry gestured for them all to sit around the small table in the room as she started talking again.

"How are you feeling Captain Lennox? We've had…" Lennox cut her off before she could get started,

"Please, call me Will, its too early for formalities." Tackaberry smiled at this.

"Sure, well Will we're here because we've had a number of calls from Defence Sectary Kellar tonight regarding disturbed sleep and headaches, and being as you are also new to the base we thought we'd check up on you." Here she paused, obviously wanting a response from Lennox.

"I have been having headaches and strange dreams; they keep waking me up but its ok, nothing too bad."

"Hmmm. You were told that if you had any such experiences you where to report them to us as soon as possible?" She said, slightly reproachfully but still smiling.

"Yeah but it was happening so often I didn't want to bother you guys, I've been writing down what I can remember about the dreams though, so that should make up for it." Lennox replied, going to his bedside table and collecting the paper he'd half filled, and handing it to Tackaberry.

"Well thanks for this but we really do need to know if you're being subject to cerebral assaults like the ones you're currently experiencing." She said her eyes skimming the page. She looked back up at Lennox, honest concern radiating from her open face.

"Ok might as well get this over with," she said gesturing to the man, Bowden, who promptly put the case he'd been carrying on the table and slid it over to Tackaberry.

"What?" Lennox asked, alarm rising slightly in him.

"Oh don't worry about it, just a little shot that we give to newcomers if they are having particularly high exposure to CAs." She said, flicking the latches on the case and opening it up. Inside where lots of small bottles and vials with various sizes of needles and syringes.

"CAs?" Lennox asked, it was too early in the morning for this crap.

"Oh sorry, cerebral assaults. Normally things here are quiet and we don't have to administer this to our guests, but I'm afraid for the next few days this isn't going to let up one bit." She finished pulling on a pair of medic gloves and quickly put together a syringe, selecting one of the larger bottles from the case and prepping a fairly big dose of whatever the clear chemical was.

"Now if I can have which ever arm is not the one you write with…"

"Is this really necessary?" Lennox asked, still a little confused by it all, "and what is that stuff?"

"Oh this is something our pharmaceutical department whipped up a few years ago, it'll stop the CAs and hopefully you'll be able to get some sleep! Sectary Kellar felt much better after he'd had his." Tackaberry said taking hold of the arm Lennox had offered her and wiping the inside of his forearm with a disinfectant.

"Now are you allergic to anything that you know of?" She continued, manipulating the skin of his forearm looking for a vein.

"No, but I don't think I need…" Lennox began, but it was too late. As soon as he'd said no, Tackaberry had deftly performed the procedure, injecting the strange substance into his arm. She then rubbed the spot vigorously as she disposed of the syringe with her other hand and fished out a small band-aid from the case to put over the needle puncture.

"There, now it'll take a few minutes to take effect, but within half an hour you should notice a big difference and be able to get some rest. From what I've heard, you have a busy morning tomorrow!" She said, her chipper manner still in place despite Lennox's resistance to the procedure as she packed what little equipment she'd used away and closed the case. Lennox looked at her slightly bemused, what could he say?

"Err… thanks?" Lennox finally said as the two got up and made to leave the room.

"No problem, and if you can't feel any difference after an hour then you defiantly need to get in touch with us ok?" Tackaberry said, the man beside her remaining silent. He hadn't said one word throughout the entire exchange.

"Good night Will" Came the cheerful good bye as the two left. Lennox just sat there and blinked.

As the door was closing Tackaberry started talking to her associate. Lennox managed to hear the first few sentences before the door slide shut, once again Tackaberry doing the talking but the polite and cheerful manner gone from her voice.

"That poor guy, honestly what were they thinking! Bringing visitors in when D quad are taking SEFS, they knew Bunting would be going berserk yet they still…"

Tackaberry's rant was cut off by the closing door, and Lennox was left with his own muddled thoughts. He glanced at the clock again, it read 3.32am. The whole thing had happened in less than ten minutes. He looked at his arm, the band-aid reminding him that it really had just happened. Belatedly he realised that they had taken the paper he had written his dreams on with them, and he wondered what he should do if he had anymore dreams. He realised that they must be pretty confident the stuff they'd given him would work, and if it didn't then he had been told to ring them. Sighing, Lennox walked over to his rumpled bed and climbed in, trying to settle down to get back to sleep. There was no point worrying about any of this now, he'd tell Ironhide about it in the morning and then they'd be out of this place…

The minutes dragged by and Lennox felt his eyes start to close. He realised that his headache was indeed fading and he was starting to feel more like himself. Another glance at the clock, 3.38am, that was fast… and why was he dropping off so quickly, maybe there was some sedative in the mix too…

And with that Lennox was asleep, his mind finally closed to the horrors that dwelt in this place.

* * *

It was late morning, and the autobots were leaving Sector 11. The three vehicles paused at the outer gate, Lennox hoping out of Ironhide's cab to hand in the four radios they'd been given the day before as instructed. The guard that took them said a curt 'thanks' before waving them on. As Lennox turned to get back into Ironhide's passenger seat he couldn't help but notice the badge on the guy's chest, D1 with a crossed machete and rifle beneath it, and some sort of animal, like a spider with a tail…

He hoisted himself into the seat and the convoy was moving on before Lennox had even had the chance to close the door. Each of the autobots was towing a trailer full of the metal they had come to collect; they had spent all morning loading them. Lennox was surprised at how much they'd managed to ram into the trailers, but not at the fact the cybertronians were capable of pulling them like B2 had been.

It had been a strange, tiring morning. The metal was heavy, as Ratchet had remarked on when initially analysing it the stuff, it was denser than its outward appearance suggested. B2 had been in high spirits as they helped load, ogling the autobots at every turn, but had revealed no more about the base or what they did there. Lennox was tired and just wanted to forget about the whole experience. He had woken up fine when his alarm had sounded, all the injection last night had affected was his head, or so it appeared. He had not felt any of the unease or dread that he had felt the day before, so what ever they had given him, it obviously had worked. Ieno had come by when they were finished loading to say goodbye, but not Kellar, and that had been that. They were leaving. With all the secrecy, strange security and general weirdness Lennox had been half expecting something bad to happen before they left. But here they were, driving away with their precious cargo, finally getting back to what they knew.

As they pulled away from the imposing barrier and headed out into the desert, Ironhide opened up a com channel to the other two autobots, playing the feed into his cab so Lennox could hear and participate too. They all went over what they had seen and experienced in the base, with Ratchet being extremely interested in the injection Lennox had been given. The autobots themselves didn't have anything as exciting as Lennox's nightmares and early morning visit to report, having not been disturbed in the aircraft hanger from the time they were escorted there to the morning when B2 had let them back into the base. However Ironhide made a special point to tell Lennox about the vehicles being stored in the aircraft hangers they had slept in.

"10 Chinook helicopters Lennox, 10! Why could they need so many? Its ridiculous, those things are huge, they can't need to transport things around that much. That's enough space to fly 550 people; they can't have that many visitors at once. What ever they have in there must be dangerous enough that they have to be able to evacuate at a moments notice, that's the only logical reason I can think of for having such air support standing by. Surely your government has more important tasks for such valuable machines than sitting around in a sector's hangers? And they have apaches Lennox. Four of them. What could possibly warrant such hardware?"

Optimus eventually cut through Ironhide's tirade, stating simply that they would in all likelihood never know the answers to any of their questions, and that they should focus their thoughts on what they were going to do with the metal they were transporting once they got home. As Ratchet and Optimus started bouncing ideas off each other Leenox could almost feel Ironhide's frustration radiating from his dashboard. It was going to be a long drive home.

* * *

_Inside her stark prison, the being known as Bunting seethed. She sat hunched on the tiles of her prison, hissing loudly to herself. Frequently she would flinch violently, and sometimes she howled at whatever invisible assailants where tormenting her. Every now and again she would lash out at the walls, furious that she be reduced to such a level and enraged that she could not reach those responsible for it. _

_The screams of her children filled her mind, their pain flooding her consciousness. And she could do nothing to help them. She was trapped, reduced to a plaything of these infuriating pale creatures, as were every single one of her offspring._

_Well, perhaps not all of them. Not anymore._

_She tried not to focus on the faint calls that she could feel getting further away from this awful place. She dared not hope that this time, something would come from all the pain and loss she had been through to get this far. Inwardly she agonised, longing to answer the scared cries of those leaving, yet she dared not reach out to them. She didn't know how advanced the pale ones where in their knowledge of her kind, and could not risk them reading her projections. She could not endure another failure, and if this plot was uncovered before it bore fruit, then she could only imagine what the consequences would be. Ghosts of her predecessors drifted through these corridors, their sorrow and hatred a sharp and bitter taste in her mind. They had all failed, had all been terminated, and so to had endless numbers of their children. She would not be added to their number._

_She glared at the smooth walls surrounding her, imagining the pale ones watching her. They were always watching, she knew they would be there somewhere, scrutinising her every move. She could not allow any gesture or sound to escape her that might alert them to the escapees slowly moving away from this prison. _

_A death, one of the pale ones must have pushed a drone too far during its probing, and Bunting screamed from the shock and grief that hit her. More futile strikes at the cold walls, her claws leaving no mark on its dense surface. Her hands where bloody from her efforts, and the smears of it left on the walls smoked as the substance burned into metal._

_Would this torture ever end? Would she have her revenge and a place for her children to run free? Despite her incarceration and torment, the answer to such questions were clear in her mind, it was only a matter of time. And today she had taken one more step towards that dream._

_Amid the snarls she consoled herself, soon she would be free and they would all pay._


End file.
